Circles
by grand-taire
Summary: A story of the lifelong friendship between Combeferre and Enjolras up until their deaths. Based on the song "Circles" by Passenger and the characters from Les Miserables by Victor Hugo.


**A/N: Sorry I haven't uploaded the first chapter of "Die Freunde" yet. I'm editing it now and it should be up tomorrow. However, I was listening to this song, and this fic popped up in my head. IT HAD TO BE WRITTEN! It's also 1 AM right now so this could be crap but I hope you like it! Passenger is one of my favorite singers (I saw him open for Ed Sheeran last year) and this in my not so humble opinion is one of his best songs.**

** PS: This is told from Combeferre's perspective. I made his first name René, and Enjolras' first name Julien. Bolded and italicized sections are flashbacks and will be told in past tense. Italicized sections are the song lyrics. The normal font is taking place live at the barricade so will be in present tense.**

**"Circles"**

_It's been years  
Since we carved our names  
On a clocktower door  
Before everything changed_

"_**Don't do it Julien! We'll get in trouble!" I hissed.**_

"_**Who's going to care, René? We're children. They won't punish us," he said calmly and he pulled out the small knife he had taken from my kitchen. He touched the tip of it to the door of the small village clocktower and scraped it down the front. He quickly carved a big J on the door.**_

"_**Your turn, René!" he said enthusiastically.**_

"_**I don't want to!" I said. "That's defacing public property! It's illegal!"**_

"_**I did it, so should you," he said.**_

_**I took the knife from him and quickly carved an R into the wooden door. A big smile broke out across Julien's face and he laughed out loud. I started to laugh too.**_

"_**Hey! What do you two think you're doing?"**_

_**We both turned and saw a gendarme quickly headed our way.**_

"_**Run!" Julien yelled. We took off away from the square and ran down the cobblestone streets. We hid behind a pile of boxes behind one of the general stores and waited for the gendarme to pass. Once he was far away, we took off in the other direction and we didn't stop until we were safe inside my house.**_

"_**I told you, Julien," I said. "I said we would get caught!"**_

"_**Actually, dearest René, he didn't actually end up catching us," Julien said, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. I put the knife back in the kitchen drawer and we both cried from laughing so hard.**_

_We were big eyed boys  
With the salt on our skin  
And we'd throw our kites to the wind  
And they'd fly on and on and on and on  
On and on and on and on  
On and on and on and on_

We had no cares in those days. We played freely. We didn't notice the poverty and suffering around us. We were in our own little carefree world. There was nobody else to fight for except ourselves. The only thing that mattered was not getting caught. Now as Julien prepares to shoot the artillery man, I remember and miss those days of innocence.

_It's been years  
Since we whispered soft  
With the torch light on  
And the big light off  
_

_**I held the smaller candle above Julien's father's old copies of Robespierre's writings. We had found them hidden away in the small space between his desk and the wall. I thought maybe he had hidden them there because he didn't want to look at them. Perhaps he was embarrassed that he had them and he couldn't publicly get rid of them.**_

_**It was nighttime, and we had to be quiet. We didn't want to wake his parents while we were reading.**_

"_**Careful, René," Julien said. "You'll drip candle wax all over."**_

"_**Sorry," I said. His bright blue eyes scanned the papers.**_

"_**These are fascinating," he said. "Robespierre was a genius."**_

"_**He also got beheaded," I said, rolling my eyes. Julien glared at me. "What? It's true."**_

_**We read the papers together all night. Even though he became a monster when he actually got power, both Julien and I agreed that Robespierre definitely had some wonderful ideas.**_

_We were tired boys  
With the soap on our skin  
And we'd fall asleep to the wind  
And we'd dream on and on and on and on  
On and on and on and on  
On and on and on and on_

In those days we were just dreamers. We exhausted ourselves with philosophy. We didn't know what we would be getting into. Now we are leading our friends to certain death because of those dreams.

_Cos we're circles  
We're circles you see  
We go round round the sun  
In and out like the sea  
I'll circle round you  
You will circle round me_

"_**You're my best friend René," Julien said, smiling at me. "You're the closest thing I have to a real family."**_

_**It was tragic to hear that, but nevertheless I smiled at him. His family had disowned him. They couldn't agree with his politics and they resented them. And now my family was threatening to disown me if I kept in contact with him. So in a way he was right. I was his only family now. And I knew soon that he would be the only family I had too. We would be all each other had besides the other Amis. But it was different with us. I recalled the day years ago when we had wreaked havoc in the square when we defiled the clocktower. There was a bond between us that wouldn't be broken anytime soon. Our fates were intertwined.**___

_And in years  
When the torch light thins  
And the clock tower's gone  
And the big light dims  
We'll no longer be boys  
We'll have lines on our skin  
And they'll throw our dust to the wind_

The only lines on our skin that we had were the ones we caused through our own worries.

The first bayonet hurts the most when it enters my chest. I feel it tear through my flesh and the pain it causes me is indescribable. The noise that escapes my mouth is inhuman. I stumble backwards when the guard that wounds me first yanks out the long blade. I look around and see many of my comrades sprawled back on the ground, lifeless: Courfeyrac, Feuilly, Bossuet, Joly, and numerous others. I look at the weapon in my hand. I raise it and fire a bullet into the man's face. The soldier dies quickly, but there are so many more clambering over the barricade to take his place.

Not much after, another man's bayonet is thrust into my chest. I cry out and my vision blurs with tears. I fall down to my knees, feeling too weak to support myself, and the man hovers over me. His expression is filled with regret as he withdraws his weapon. He pulls back to strike again, and I decided to make use of my last bullet. I shoot the man in the heart and he falls back dead.

"Julien!" I call desperately. I look back and see him hurriedly ushering survivors into the wine shop. I see tears falling from his eyes as he does it. He looks right into my eyes and suddenly his widen in alarm.

"René, no!" he cries. Then I feel it. Another man's bayonet makes contact. I fall back off his blade and onto the blood-soaked cobblestone street. I look up into the cloudy sky and I feel my lungs start to fill up with blood.

I don't want to die, but I am.

I can't run away this time.

I say one last prayer before my life slips away.


End file.
